Spear of Atlantis
by Plodimsocks
Summary: The world is a very convoluted and unpredictable place. It is better to learn the past, before tackling the present. But sometimes, the truth of one's past, and pondering the age of the earth itself, can be dangerous. A volatile serpent in the hands of historians, philosophers, and those that love you. And sometimes, it is your own past that has been forgotten, and misunderstood.


**EXTENDED BLURB**

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The world is a very convoluted and unpredictable place. It is better to learn the past, before tackling the present. But sometimes, the truth of one's past, and pondering the age of the earth itself, can be dangerous. A volatile serpent in the hands of historians, philosophers, and those that love you. And sometimes, it is your own past that has been forgotten, and misunderstood.

So, beware of the future, beware of the present, and remember the past. For it might hold the answers you need.

Because, like all things in life, what you see, isn't always what you actually have.

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 **(This is, by far, some of the best writing I have ever done. . Hetalia is, in a way, a dying fandom, which is really sad, because having spirits represent a nation's very essence is actually really cool. I actually agree with some of the stereotypes in the series, and I love the English voice acting - it's hilarious - but I am not a person who has ever left my home country, only met and spoke with people from others. Scouts is a great place to meet people from all over the world, and I have a few people I have accidentally texted on Tumblr who I have fledgling friendships with.)**

 **(Please enjoy the story, and please believe that I don't hate the Britain from Hetalia. This is actually a different universe (much like the 2!ps, which is a concept I want to explore) and history will be changed,** _ **at times,**_ **but sometimes, reading about how a different country views your own can tell you what is really going on if you are too caught up in the current affairs of your homeland.)**

 **I don't own Hetalia** **(the universe hasn't changed it, huh.)**

 **But Jurassic Park is free game** **(spoke too soon.)**

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 _"For the pride of trace and trail was his, and sick unto death, he could not bear that another dog should do his work."_

The Call of the Wild

Jack London

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 _ **"MATTHEW!"**_

Dusk coloured eyes snapped open, a small tremble of fear striking through the small body.

"C-c-coming, Sir." He whispered as loud as he dared, packing away his ink set as quickly as he could without spilling the black liquid, and raced to the front door, where he dusted of his shoulders, hoping to straighten out his shirt as best he could before seeing the man who owned him, and hurriedly, yet sheepishly, opened the door.

" _Move_ ," Britain snarled, lucifer green eyes narrowed in great irritation.

The personification of the provinces of Canada took a fearful step to the side, wishing that he could be smaller.

The Empire of Britain, the true embodiment of the British aristocracy, growled lowly at the slightly smaller spirit, before his lips twisted into a very cruel kind of smile, one that the waif-like Canada recognised as smug.

"Prepare the guest rooms, boy. We have company."

The blonde tossed the sack he'd held over his shoulder to the ground with a thud.

A small yelp came from the bag, and Canada gasped, eyes clouding with concern, and he took a step towards the bag.

"Back off," the Empire snapped. "I've given you instructions, and you are to follow them without question, you understand?"

The thin blonde nodded, desperately wishing that his "brother", Raj, hadn't needed to attend those trade meetings in India. Sending an apologetic look toward the sack, the colony turned to leave, before shakily turning back to face his colonizer.

"…E-excuse me, Master Britain, but… how many rooms must I prepare…?" He shivered under the man's gaze, and flinched when the empire started laughing.

"Just the one, boy. Surely you can't mess that up." Canada slammed his mouth shut, cowed as the Empire laughed merrily through the foyer and into his study.

The blonde, as soon as the coast was clear, dashed up the stairs, blinking away embarrassed tears as he silently opened the closets in the spare room and readied the bed.

He didn't see them at the time, however, at the moment Britain had stepped within the house, his only remaining Arctic colony was being watched by two pairs of eyes, one filled with mischief, and the other of admiration.

As the tall blonde set out some of the warmest quilts he could find - because the first night in Britain's Manor was always the coldest - two grubby children peeked around the door, the tallest standing behind the smaller protectively. After being satisfied that their colonizer won't find them, the two children giggled, startling Canada, who turned just in time to see two dark blurs slam into his legs. He let out a quiet yelp before stepping backwards into the bed post, falling onto the thin sheets and quilts, with two children wriggling on top of him.

They spoke quickly and quietly in the hushed tones and jilting vowels of a language that Canada had never heard before. He could only stutter dumbly at the children as they pouted at the taller male's lack of understanding, and after tugging at his clothes curiously and playing with his face and hair, the two seemed to tire a little, the taller one calming down enough for Canada to see him properly.

He was thin, with dark, dark skin, the kind that Canada's brother, the Thirteen Colonies - Now the "United States of America" - used to find strange, and would make fun of the people that he came across who had skin even remotely like that.

He had long, tightly curled hair, that was fuzzy and dirty, with streaks of sun-bleached blonde on the tips. Pristine white teeth were visible thanks to the child's wide grin, and the face had a flatter nose than Canada's other brother's, reminding him of the one he used to have before he was even called _Canada_. The child patted the pale teen's cheeks happily, admiring the freckles and the pinkish tinted skin.

Canada let out a rumbling laugh as the second, smaller (but certainly heavier) child fiddled with his hands curiously, wondering at the paleness of his skin - or at least, Canada guessed he was, he had no idea what the child was saying, although the structure of their sentences and the vocal sounds were oddly lyrical.

The younger child, he noted as he tried to sit up with two giggling children attached to him, was significantly paler than the elder child, although was still much darker than Canada himself, carrying an olive tinge to his skin as opposed to Raj's reddish brown. The Children both had dark brown eyes, although the elder had hints of amber within the irises, while the smaller child had a murky hazel edge to his doe like eyes.

The smaller child, while much shorter, was significantly plumper than the elder, although still small for a child in Canada's eyes.

Both of them had curious expressions, although the younger seemed more relaxed while the elder had the hints of a challenge in his eyes, a competitive air Canada hasn't seen since his -now ex- brother left the Empire.

Detaching the children from his hair and setting them on his lap - where they merely lent against him and gave him this look of complete and utter trust that floored him - he regarded them critically.

Both of them had matted hair, although the elder only needed to wash his, the younger needed a really good haircut, and both of them needed a bath if Britain was to let them eat at the table. They wore nothing but worn pants and dirty singlets, and were shivering wildly in the cool autumn air.

Great, he had to bathe, clothe and feed a pair of children who didn't understand a word of English-

"Are you a guardian spirit, mister golden guy?" cooed the taller child.

"Are you going 'oo protect us from the loud and cocky drongo?" whispered the smaller child innocently, saying the word as if he wasn't speaking the worst swear he knew.

Canada laughed quietly, thinking that loud and cocky described Britain perfectly.

"I'm not a guardian spirit, no." He smiled softly at them as they booed and tugged on his shirt.

"And as for protecting you…" His smile vanished. "I don't know if I can. I'm not very brave, but…" The two gave him that look again, of complete and utter trust and Canada so desperately wanted to protect that naïve faith from Britain's cold expectations.

"I'll try."

The two children smiled, wriggling closer to Canada's sides to soak up both his attention and the soft warmth he gave off.

"Now," Canada continued, gazing down at the two children thoughtfully. "Are you going to let me make your beds, or are you going to sit on my lap until lunch time?"

The two giggled happily, propelling themselves off of his lap and around the room excitedly, chanting 'food, food, food, food!'

Canada laughed his quiet laugh, thinking that the two have made him smile more in ten minutes than he has in a majority of his life under Britain's rule.

And to the blonde's surprise, with just a little patient encouraging, he had both of them bathed, clothed and fed within the next hour, and was considering given the younger child - who said his name was Ruru - a haircut, when Saoirse - known by most as Ireland, slammed the laundry door open ready to yell, when she noticed Canada and stared dumbly at him for a good minute.

"Uh… Miss Saoirse?" Canada asked quietly, eyes wide as Jiemba - the elder child - hid behind his legs, hissing at the woman.

Ireland laughed.

"I thought," she gasped between breaths. "That these two had run off on Britain, and while I love the thought of someone given that ole cabbage a hard time, I was afraid of the fallout we'd have later, but no!" She laughed harder, long red hair swaying. "I find that you, Matthew, has decided to do my job for me, when during the entire carriage trip to the manor, they wouldn't even look at Wales!" Her snorting laughter had attracted the attention of other residents of the house, and Canada bowed his head sheepishly as said Welshman's kind face and Scotland's bored expression peeked in the laundry door.

"Saoirse! What's all this-" The brunette stopped himself, blinking at the sight of Canada and the two colonies.

"…Why are you all staring at me…?" the blonde muttered.

Scotland smirked around his cigar.

"They wouldn't talk to anyone fer' the entire voyage. They wouldn't even accept toffee! And here they are, mooching off you." The redheaded spirit laughed, blue eyes smiling.

"Of course they would." Walter - Wales - sighed, a small twitch moving his lips.

The two children attached themselves to Matthew's legs, and the Canadian gave them an exasperated look, wishing reverently that the British siblings would just leave.

"What is going on here?" A very English voice said softly.

Scotland spun around, and Canada couldn't see what his expression was over Wales and Ireland, who had taken protective stances in front of Canada and hidden them from the Briton's gaze.

Arthur Kirkland glared at his brothers, and gave a specifically scathing one to his sister, scowling.

"Have you found the tramps?"

Scotland growled. "They never left."

Britain raised a dark eyebrow. "Oh? And where are they then?"

"Bathed and dressed." Murmured Wales softly, flinching under his brother's harsh gaze.

"And who bathed them while Ireland was _oh so_ distracted?" Ireland grimaced at her youngest brother's stab at her.

No one said anything, and Canada could feel Britain become angrier. He brushed the two children off of his legs and sent them a glance that said 'stay put', and stepped out in front of Wales and Ireland.

"…I'm sorry sir, they followed me upstairs and I didn't want to leave them unsupervised…"

For a moment, the entire room stared at him, with Britain's cool gaze regarding his winter colony thoughtfully.

A loud bang echoed through the house, and Britain swore. A shout of Britain's name reverberated throughout the house, as did the sound of a slamming door.

"Good Lord, I thought I had another day or so before this bastard arrived."

Giving Canada a quick glance, the Empire sighed.

"Keep an eye on those two, would you Canada? An entire Empire is under one roof for once, and it take a colony to find two escaped children." He glared at his brothers and sister. "You lot are even more useless than-"

"ARTHUR KIRKLAND, YOU BETTER HOPE I FIND YOU BEFORE LONDON DOES YOU SADISTIC PIECE OF-"

"I'M COMING YOU SEAFARING BASTARD!" Britain screamed right back, slamming the laundry door behind him loudly.

Canada flinched, and was then pounced on by two scared children who desperately wanted to go to whatever place they called home.

"I do not know if I can get you back home," he whispered to them, crouched down to their eye level as Wales and Scotland raced out of the laundry after Britain, ready to watch the Empire pick a fight with the two people who could scare even them. He gathered Ruru into his arms as the child flinched at the sound of braking glass, wrapping an arm around Jiemba's shoulder. He guided them out the back door and towards the game woods, grabbing some coats along the way.

"I do know, right now, that we are not safe in that house." He cast a backwards glance at the Victorian building, and tugged on Ruru's jacket, buttoning up the front to keep the boy warm. Smiling weakly at the two sniffling children, he lead them into the woods to sit under a large oak tree that was losing its leaves in the wind.

Along the walk, the two had slowly gone back to their cheerful selves, and Canada had smiled at their chatter, letting the songs of the few remaining birds and the flutter of leaves in the breeze wash away his nerves. He watched them jump into piles of red leaves, laughing as they ran up to him as he sat against the trunk of the great oak, brandishing a bigger and brighter leaf each time.

They sat together once they grew tired, each one of them wearing a small, soft smile as the sun further lost its edge, and the wind began to still.

It was quiet when Canada woke, and he woke to the sight of the sun setting over the hill the manor resided on.

Time to go back, he decided, and he shook the two bleary eyed colonies awake, and they trailed after him like ducklings, mimicking his actions, and when Jiemba got stuck on top of a fallen log, Canada held Ruru's hand and waited until the boy was at his side before continuing.

It was nearly supper by the time the three returned, and when Canada instructed the two to sit in the sunroom with Ireland while he helped cook food, Britain levelled the blonde with a glare, and Matthew knew that he would be in for it later.

But for now, he regretted nothing. He threw together a classic Haybox stew with London, and set the table before letting her - Olivia - call dinner.

He sat beside Wales, who told the two fantastic stories about fairies and wizards, regaling them with the best ones he knew. He smiled at Olivia and Saoirse, who shared a strange look before smiling right back. He listened to Scotland's crude jokes, and quietly sung along to Ireland's bar songs that Britain so hated.

It didn't matter though, because Arthur was too butt hurt by his experience while Canada was gone to be angry at the other spirits at the table for having fun.

And life, for the whole, was good, and with the two colonies getting into great amounts of trouble, Canada taking the punishment for them, the growing number of colonies in the common wealth grew up, under Raj's wisdom, Olivia's cooking, Walter's tall tales, and Matthew's unwavering protection.

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 **(If there are any mistakes, just message me and I'll edit it.)**

 **I won't be continuing this anymore, at least, not for now. Let's consider this work one I may never touch again, unless inspiration and good responses persuades me so (and I'm in senior year in a few months, - Grade 11, that is- so meh).**

 **Have a good day, courtesy of Matthew's dorkdom.**


End file.
